Legion
by Simone Robinson
Summary: "-It was one of those nights. The ones where Donnie tossed and turned and pulled the blanks over his head and threw them to the floor.-" Word dumping. A collection of ficlets and a one shot.


**L** e g i o n

* * *

It was the evening before him and his brother's new mission, and Mikey was lying idly in the bath, hands running through the soapy water. The Daimio had requested their protection while on earth, and they were journeying to the meeting place the following day.

It suddenly struck him that he would one day die.

He had thought that before, of course, he wasn't ignorant.

But on this night it penetrated his consciousness with a terrible clarity. Clarity so pure and undeniable that, despite the pleasant heat of the water, he turned cold inside.

It wasn't the knowledge of his eventual death which was the most terrible thing to Mikey- it was the thought that he would no longer _be_.

It occurred to him in complete clarity that he wasn't just Splinter's son, or another ninja, or a brother.

He was _himself_. A separate, individual and unique being that would never be replaced. That would one day die.

He was only himself.

He stared in wonder at the ceiling, watching the droplets of water catching on the edges and sliding down the walls.

The cold inside froze his body.

He was himself, and one day that person would come to an end.

His stomach churned.

He sat up and spewed into his bathwater.

Upon starting out, they'd been their usual selves.

As they traveled, skimming the rooftops, he noticed the concerned glances sent his way from Don and even a puzzled glance from Raph.

After long minutes of silence Mikey gave a soft sight.

Don looked at him again.

He supposed he wasn't talking that much.

Time to correct that.

He cleared his throat, "Leo, I've been wondering, what exactly we are protecting the Daimio from?"

Leo glanced over his shoulder, "He's been receiving an alarming amount of death threats recently and is concerned for his safety." He paused to clear his throat, "He's just about to set off back home from the recent peace negotiatings with the labrums."

"Do we know who's sending the threats?" Don questioned quietly, all attention now focused on Leo.

Leo's gaze was on the path before him as he landed on the next building before swiftly propelling himself back into the air.

Raph frowned as well.

No more was said until it was time for them to set up camp.

***0***

"Mikey…?"

The voice of his brother, so much quieter than usual, jerked Mikey out of his musings.

He turned from the dancing light of the fire to blink into the darkness, giving his eyes time to adjust.

The form of Leo slowly came into view, first a blackened outline and then more distinguished shapes, complete with shadowed features.

Mikey stood, careful not to wake his brothers who slept on the other side of the flames

"Leo, you're back fast." He tilted his head, "Everything fine?"

Leo was frowning slightly and Mikey was unnerved by the serious expression on his bother's face.

"That's what _I_ intended to ask _you_..." Leo mused

"Huh?"

"You've been acting quiet and solemn all day Mikey… it is not at all like you."

"No bro…uh, everything's cool-"

"I was gone fore over two hours yet to you it seemed under an hour. It is unlike you to misjudge things so much." Leo said.

Mikey felt a flush rise to his cheeks, "Uh, my bad-"

Leo held up his hand- silencing Mikey.

Without uttering a word, he sat down on the cement, where they'd camped in the ally, behind the dumpsters. Mikey took his look as an invitation to sit down as well, especially grateful as his body was aching with the exertion from during day.

There were a few moments of silence before Leo began, "Something is bothering you, Mikey, and before we meet the daimio, I would like it if you told me what it is." He looked at Mikey, "You would not like to loose focus would you?"

Mikey bit his lip, "Nothing. Something sorta…" he paused, searching for the right word, "Uh… rattled me? It's cool."

Mikey nodded at his own words, looking serious, "I won't screw up or anything cause of that, Leo."

A moment's pause.

"Something…?" Leo said.

Mikey frowned at his brother's dismissal. Leo wasn't even looking at him.

After a few more moments of silence he gave a resigned sigh, "…I've been thinking about dying."

Leo spun around; there was an odd expression on his face that Mikey couldn't quite place, something akin to shock but leaning more towards panic, "What?"

It took Mikey a moment to realize just _what_ he had said and when he did he shook his head frantically, "Not like that!" he amended, "I mean that I was thinking last night about how everyone dies and that one day people just stop being and then with the…"

He trailed off at Leo's confused expression, rubbing the back of his neck.

He heard his brother chuckle; it was a softer sound than usual yet it echo quietly through the camp sight.

"Mikey, leave that for the brooders, okay? It's me and Raph's department, huh?"

A small smile came to Mikey's face.

"Remember Mikey, even though you might be gone, your memory will certainly never cease to be." He grinned, "You just have focus on living enough _to__be_ remembered."

Leo nodded at his own words, "We should be getting some rest. I'll take first watch."

Mikey nodded, starting towards the fire, then hesitating.

On impulse, he moved forward and flung his arms around his brother's waist. He heard Leo let out a surprised grunt at impact before one arm came to rest on Mikey's shell.

As Mikey hugged his brother tighter, an endearing look passed over Leonardo's face.

The kid had retained his sensitivity.

After a moments pause Leo heard the muffled voice, "Thanks."

But he was still young and still in need of guidance.

He patted his back softly, "Get some sleep Mikey."

He watched as the younger turtle complied, crawling to just in front of the fire. He settled himself, curling in like a cat beside the fire. As Leo began his rounds, checking the campsite for any traps or unseen enemies, he glanced over his shoulder at Mikey; he seemed to almost snuggle into the floor, treating it like bedding and inching closer and closer to the fire for added warmth. Leo chuckled softly.

Mikey drifted into sleep in a mere matter of moments and by the time Leo returned from his brief scout if the campsite, he was snoring softly.

He was also very close to the fire.

Leo winced as Mikey's bandanna tails brushed against the flames. Inching nearer, he pushed his brother out of harms way.

Mikey's eyes flickered open for a moment and then slid shut again, a contented smile on his face.

Leo smiled softly as he sat down, Mikey looked so young when he was asleep. His gaze shifted to his remaining two brothers- actually, they all did. Even Raph. Though he'd never say that out loud.

Silence.

Crickets.

More silence.

Moments passed, Leo's thoughts swirled.

He listened to the sound of rustling leaves.

The soft wind.

The crackling of the fire.

The breaths of his brothers, soft, even, asleep and safe.

"…_I was thinking last night about how everyone dies…"_

Leo let out a sigh at the truth in his student's words.

He stared into the fire.

The light flickered.

Softly.

Dancing.

Strong.

Powerful.

Untouchable.

Unaware that it would be snuffed out the following morning.

Leo shut his eyes.

***0*  
**

First watch, it turned out, was the only watch that evening. Mikey discovered this upon getting up; Leo had been kneeling by the dying fire emptying handfuls of sand (where the shell had he gotten that?) onto the glowing embers. When Mikey had asked why he hadn't woken him up, Leo had replied that he simply hadn't been tired and that it had seemed pointless for more than one person to loose sleep.

Mikey had deemed it pointless to argue and simply moved to wake his brothers.

After removing any traces of them having been in the area, they had set off through the overgrowth, continuing on their way to the Daimio. They were only hours away.

Not much was said, yet the atmosphere was lighter than it had been for a while.

Sailing through the air, Mikey smiled.

***0***

But now Mikey was numb.

He was clambering across the rubble with desperation. Like someone possessed he cast the rocks and debris aside, desperate for any signs of life. The heat bore down upon him like a dusty blanket, smothering him, choking him.

The dusty air, thick with smoke and flames caught in his lungs, dragging him down.

People were screaming.

He clung tightly to any hopes that his brothers would still be alive, but it was an ever-increasing struggle to carry on.

He coughed, it was a chocked, hacking sound grating against his ears. At this rate it was highly likely that he would suffocate within minutes.

"Don! Raph! Leo!"

His chest shook as the next bout of coughing tore at his lungs, releasing unbeknownst dust and smoke- previously dormant in his lungs.

Another moment of frantic searching.

Still nothing.

Blood pooled from his wounds through the fabric of his torn jumpsuit.

The smell of charred flesh was still fresh in his mind, the sickly burning, the pained cries. The cries do devoid of humanity, intelligible, animalistic, filled with pain and fear.

Mikey collapsed haphazardly atop the debris wiping the sweat and dust from his brow.

Nausea began invading his body. He choked back the taste of bile at the thoughts of the

Daimio withering in his arms, still crying in pain, only silent sobs wracking his thick, strong frame, lacking tears as they were all dried up, lacking sound as his voice box was charred and mangled.

And Mikey, alone and unable to help him, unable to do anything as he died in his arms.

Unable to do anything as one by one his brothers were taken down, buried under the deadly debris.

Unable to stop his tears and screams of disbelief and rage.

Unable to stop the ninja's who set the buildings ablaze, the ones who had set the Daimio alight with them powerless to do a thing.

The ones who had sliced through his abdomen, charred his own hand, singed his mask.

Left the site broken and destroyed

_And the Daimio's eyes._

Mikey dragged himself up, on his hands and knees at the memory.

White, unseeing, slimy, blackening…. Boiled.

He pushed himself up as much as his weakened body could and spewed onto the rocks and debris before collapsing again, narrowly avoiding the mess.

He rested his head in his hand, the one not charred to a blackened sight, slowly slipping away from the search and the heat.

Slipping away from the pain throbbing through his body.

From the icy feeling sliding through his body. From the dulling flush in his cheeks. From the blood and the gore.

From the unrelenting panic, fear…guilt.

"_Remember Mikey, even though you might be gone, your memory will certainly never cease to be." He grinned, "You just have focus on living enough to be remembered_."

"Tomorrow…." Mikey whispered, "Today…."

He coughed, his eyes squeezed shut.

The feeling of unrelenting heartache entered his heart, so painful Mikey could never have imagined the feeling, "Leo….."

A tear slid down his cheek, drying up as swiftly as it appeared, the corpse leaving a dirty track through the grime and blood caked to his face.

He could no longer muster the strength to move.

He laid still, tears flowing from his eyes only to meet the same fate as the first, "Sorry Leo…" His voice was hoarse, "I can't…live…"

His eyes slid shut.

The last thing he heard before the darkness consumed him was the deep laugh of his brother taken from a memory.

_And the sight of Leo smiling at him._

Then the darkness came.

And there was nothing.

No dreams.

No memories.

No life.

It felt like he was floating through a haze. It was timeless, he was weightless. Voices were floating in and out of his consciousness. The blackness around his was so thick it seemed tangible and solid. It felt like he could simply let go and fall of the precipice and into the velvet sky. And hang there, safe, warm and free of everything.

The voices were getting nearer, though it now seemed to him that there was only one voice. He should know that voice.

He should know a lot of things.

Well, he thought so anyway, the blackness seemed to be interfering with his mind.

So, maybe it was only his imagination that he had forgotten things.

Maybe he wasn't even alive.

What was it to be alive anyway? Was it when you were different…

Was it when he was _himself_? A separate, individual and unique being that would never be replaced?

He decided that that was an admirable conclusion.

He was only himself.

The weightless haze, the painless haze that had fallen upon him seemed to be lifting. And he felt heavy, like someone was pouring weight into his body and dragging him down. And then the precipice that he had been so furiously clinging to gave way. And he was falling and the blackness was tangible and it was soft, gentle and so he shut his eyes.

…

The first thing that Mikey noticed was that the air around him was cold. The second was how the light was red under his hooded eyelids. He scrunched them shut tighter, the throbbing in his head intensifying with each second.

Shell, what hit him?

The sheets were soft beneath his body and the antiseptic smell of cleaning products reached his nose. He nearly choked, his eyes flying open in disgust. It was only for an instant though, as the light, glaring and bright sent daggers of pain into his eyes.

With a stifled gasp, he forced his eyes shut.

In the dark of his mind, Mikey fought furiously to remember what had led up to this point. The blank void of his mind doing nothing to sooth his emotions.

Breathing hard, he squinted through his lids, wincing at the flairs of pain. Gradually though, his sense of sight returned.

Just as gradually, the clouded recesses of his mind seemed to clear and the pain started to register.

Soon after, the memories came flooding in and Mikey's eyes dropped immediately shut.

Ignoring the painful sensations running through his body, Mikey twisted onto his stomach, buried his head in the pillow and screamed.

And screamed.

He didn't even notice the prick of the needle as it entered his bloodstream. He didn't even notice the shot until the sedative had begun to take its effect.

It didn't take more than a few seconds after until he dropped into a deep, dreamless slumber, head twisted sideways on the pillow, his face streaked with tears.

Donatello stared down with saddened eyes, his own hands bandaged. One hand rubbed his brothers head.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Don turned and exited the room, wiping his face on his hand as he left.

But he wasn't crying.

Because a medic's never showed their tears.

And he was an engineer, a mechanic, but also, he was a good medic, after all.

* * *

**So, basically, not up to standard, but I had to get this done.**

**What do you think**


End file.
